Lake Tahoe
by everybreatheverymove
Summary: Three-shot. The wedding ceremony, the night between newlyweds, and the morning after that you never got to see! J/A.
1. The Wedding

**The Wedding **- The Night - The Newlyweds

* * *

It wasn't a church, or a barn or even anything remotely indoors.

There was grass, and flowers and an arch way above them.

There was a field, but no butterflies and no mints. Nothing the barn back in Seattle had.

The lady at the office had suggested the place, citing that they seemed happy and April's admission that she wanted a field wedding had triggered the elder woman into dragging them out onto a field in the middle of a beautiful resort.

It was windy, but the sunshine overtook the breeze and the goosebumps running up the bride's arms weren't from the cool air.

They were doing this. She was doing this, with the right man.

"Are you ready?"

They had nodded, his hands on her waist over the now worn-in wedding dress, her feet nervously tapping against the blades of grass.

"More than ever."

She had stood beside him, letting the wet leaves moisten her gown. She takes a breath, hands shaking before he takes on, holding it and holding her, claiming her as his.

Her veil had been abandoned somewhere along the way from Seattle to Lake Tahoe, and her hair was beginning to fall from her braid, the twelve hour drive having taken a toll on her appearance. But he had reassured that she was still her, and still beautiful, and he still wanted to marry her more than anything.

His jacket had disappeared, probably in his car, maybe back at the resort.

Thankfully they offer quick and short weddings, with assured legality and a glorious honeymoon suite. Expensive, deluxe, but his credit card doesn't have a limit and he'll give her everything she deserves.

Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he digs into his pocket to retrieve the rings they'd purchased somewhere a couple of hours away. Hers was silver, his was gold. Similar in a way and yet slightly different, a little like them.

She accepts the ring from him, biting her lip when he grins, green eyes alight and focus on her own. She'll never grow bored of this, of him.

"Do you have any vows, or-"

"Yes." April cuts the minister slash manager off, eyes wide as she glances over to him.

Her hands twitch and she smiles, licking her lips.

"I just- I," she pauses, taking a breath and peeking a look at Jackson, at her right groom, at her very-soon-to-be husband, "I love you. I know you know that, but I- I haven't said it yet and I need to. Because you did and it was beautiful and you deserve to know that I love you too. I do. I love you, Jackson. I always have."

He grins at that, watching she glances down at the grass, breath shaky.

"You're my best friend." She tells him, "I know a lot of people say that, and, you know, say that they're married to their best friend, but you really are. You always have been. You were there for me when I needed you, and you supported me when nobody else would and I can't thank you enough for that."

"April-"

"Let me finish?" She almost giggles, licking her lips again and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm not done." She grins, a soft blush covering her cheeks, "I am happy that you were you, that you are my first, my everything." She admits, "I love you, and I know I've made some mistakes but I want you to know that I only ever want to be with you, that I will only ever be with you. I love you, and I have missed you, and I want you."

He smiles, that million-dollar grin he always uses to get his way but that never quite managed to work on her. He's happy, and content, and so relieved that she's marrying him and nobody else. He had won, he had prevailed. He had loved.

"I-" He swallows a breath, a small frown gracing his face as he tries to find the words.

They matter, they mean something, and he wants to get them right. Again.

"This is has been a... strange fifteen hours, and I know you're probably tired and want nothing more than to sleep and eat and probably cry a little bit, but- I love you. You know that, and I know that you do because I made a point of telling you that. In a weird way, really, but I didn't see another choice, because I needed you. And I could have sat there and not moved and watched you start your life with someone that wasn't me, but I didn't want to. It was selfish, and wrong, but I think I was meant to do it. I think I was meant to choose you, and you were supposed to choose me. You were always supposed to choose me. And I've never- I've never believed in soulmates or fate or... anything, really, but I believe in this, and in you, and in us. Because I want this. I want to marry you, and to love you, and to make you happy. I want you."

He can see her staring at him in awe, tears down her face and cheeks flushed, and he continues. He'll always continue, always reassure her, always love her.

"I want to be your husband, because I am ready. I'm ready to start my life with you, to have a family with you. I want a life with my best friend and I know that my timing is kinda crappy and we haven't always done things the right way, but I'm sure. I am sure that you are it. That you are meant to be with me. That you are my soulmate. And I'm not a guy who believes in soulmates."

April breaks into a soft laughter then, reaching across to touch him, to cup the sides of his face and drag him closer.

"I love you." She mumbles, forehead pressed to his and eyes teary as she chews on her lip, ring pressed to his flesh.

"Do you?" He grins, sparkly-eyed and proud, rubbing his nose along hers and waiting for the minister to finish this thing already.

He can't wait anymore. He needs her, wants her. He can't wait to kiss her, and hold her tenderly, and touch her in a way that only he ever has. He can't wait for her to be his wife, and to be her husband. He can't wait to love her.

Jackson pulls his head away from her for a quick second, watching as the man beside them quotes and speaks and fails to hide the smirk on his face.

"I now pronounce you-"

It's too late.

April is already kissing him, her husband, her love. Her hands are on his face, eyes closed tight and lips pushed against his in need, in desperation.

They're married and in love, and they've missed each other so much that their only wish is to head up to their sacred honeymoon suite and declare the love, the passion, the need that had been missing for the past year.

"Me and you, right?"

"Me and you." Jackson nods slowly, nibbling on his bottom lip for a second before he grabs her by the waist, pulling her up swiftly and twirling her around as she squeals.

They had done it. She had done it, with the right man. With her perfect man. With her best friend.


	2. The Night

The Wedding -** The Night** - The Newlyweds

* * *

She's still in shock.

She's shocked, and overwhelmed and, yet, so freaking happy at the same time.

"Oh my gosh!" She shrieks, running down the hallway and tugging him along behind her.

She's a bundle of nerves, her mind is reeling and her legs are weak, but none of that matters because she's happy. She's happy, and she's married.

They did it. They really did it and, to be honest, she's still a little stunned.

She had somehow ran out on her wedding to hitch herself to someone else, the someone she should have been marrying in the first place.

It was the right choice; she knows that much, she no longer bares any guilt or confusion. She knows what she wanted, she's sure of it, and she got it; she got him.

She feels his hands meet her waist over the thick fabric of her dress and she leans back against him. Her head falls back to his shoulder and she smiles up at him, her hands searching to find his jacket. She twists herself around and grasps the collars of his shirt.

"Jackson?"

He grins and stares down at her, slipping a hand past her waist to open the door to their room for the night. "Yeah?"

His voice is low and husky and she chews on her bottom lip, her nostrils flaring in eager, "We're married."

They'd rushed down to Lake Tahoe, found the quickest possible way of getting married and then they'd run off. Again.

He'd found the hotel about twenty minutes away from the venue, and they were somewhere along the border between California and Nevada. It was nice, classy, and he'd made sure that the girl at the reception had given them the Honeymoon Suite. Granted, they wouldn't be here for long, but he intended to give his new wife the whole deal.

They were married, they were tied. Together, forever. And he never wanted to get out of their bind.

The door behind her opens and he carelessly throws the keycard onto the floor in the suite before he pauses. She goes to move into their room, her hands holding the hem of her dress up as she walks but he stops her from entering the doorway. She raises a brow out of curiosity and shrieks when he picks her up then, his right arm hooking behind the backs of her knees.

She throws her arms around his neck and giggles into the side of his neck when he kicks the door shut behind them.

He drops her back down on the bed, the creased material of her now worn-in wedding dress spreading beneath her. She bites her lip, tucking her fallen strands of hair behind her ears.

"I love you."

She'll never grow tired of hearing it. She knows it.

"I love you, too."

She reaches to grasp his shirt, pulling him down to her level and letting him ease her down onto the mattress. Shoes are kicked off and socks follow, and he chooses to ignore the fact that she'd obviously been prepared for running since she was wearing sneakers beneath her gown. She frowns when her dress gets between them; it's been so long. She needs this, needs him.

"Wait, wait."

Jackson pauses, lifting his hands from her waist and allowing her to move out from under him, "What is it?"

"I wanna do this right." She turns her back toward him, and cups her hands over her chest, "Unzip me?"

He stands back up, rolling his shirt sleeves back up his forearms before he grasps the tiny zip along the low of her back, pulling it down.

He pops open the buttons along her spine, fingertips tracing her shoulder-blades and skin.

"You good?" He grins and she licks her lips, moving away from him before she turns back around, letting the white gown fall down to the floor.

She steps out of the dress, suddenly feeling his intense gaze staring down at her, with need and love and everything in between.

He notices her attire then, the white lace and the tight garter and the incredibly-slutty pearl thong.

"You-" eyebrows raised and mouth open, he's mesmerised.

His April, the one who had spent thirty years with her legs closed was wearing a thong and looking so delectable that he found himself feeling guilty for staring at her. She was naturally timid, and petite, and as much as he had tried, he had never once imagined her like this. But he was loving it. Of course he was.

She shrugs her shoulders, chewing on her lip for a second before she steps toward him, hands on his shoulders and eyes wide.

He tries to ignore the bad feeling in his gut when she pushes him back on the bed and straddles his lap, legs spread and eyes darkening.

She wasn't dressed like this for him; it had been for someone else. Someone who didn't deserve it, didn't deserve her. Or, maybe he deserved her more.

But he couldn't, didn't want to, imagine her with another man, he had always felt a queasiness rattle his stomach whenever he saw her kissing the other guy. He didn't want to think about her being touched, being seen, being loved by another man.

She was his. Only his. And he was hers.

"Jackson?" She voices with a gentle grin, biting down on her bottom lip as her palms trace his shirted-chest and she squeezes her legs tighter around his thighs.

"Yeah?" It comes out husky, deep-throated, almost like he could barely breathe.

April smiles, "We're married."

"I know."

He smirks, hands gripping her waist when her smaller fingers find the buttons of his shirt, slowly pulling it open.

He leans up on his elbows so she can push the material from his shoulders, hands meeting flesh and eyes lustful.

It's been a long time, perhaps too long, and she can't wait to touch him, and kiss him, and let him do whatever he wanted to her.

His hands run through her red hair after she drops his shirt to the ground, fingertips tracing his tanned muscles, moving across his collarbone and grasping the sides of his face as he leans up to kiss her.

His right hand meets her behind, thumb messing with the flimsy undergarment. She giggles and reaches behind her to grab his hand, pulling away from his lips.

"What?"

"That tickles."

"Well then, how about we take it off?" He gleams up at her like a schoolboy getting to second base and she rolls her eyes when he grips her hips again and flips them over, pinning her beneath him.

Jackson kisses her briefly on her swollen lips before he travels lower, tongue meeting bone and eyes never leaving her own. He can feel her chest beginning to pound beneath his touch, especially when he drops his hands to her breasts for a second, fingertips curving around her sides.

He grins when she softly moans, eyes closed and digs her way into the pillow beneath her head.

His hands move from her hips to her thighs, pulling them up abruptly and thumbs swirling around the lace over her pelvis.

"You're killing me." He mutters, green eyes sparkling and resembling those of a venomous snake.

The redhead giggles again, bringing her hands to the back of his head as he pushes the garment over her hips and up her flat stomach.

He holds it up below her breasts, sweeping his lips across her abdomen and nuzzling his nose against her pelvis, a small glint in his eye as she gulps with a soft sigh.

"Jackson-"

"I know."

He knows her. He knows everything about her. He knows every part of her. He's the only man, the only person, to ever truly know her that well, to remember every sensitive spot and every crease in her body, to memorise her. He loves it, loves her.

She shifts beneath him, pulling the skimpy lingerie off of herself, fed up with waiting. She runs a hand down the back of his skull when he moves lower, lips tracing the insides of her thighs and teeth dragging the garter down her leg. He smirks proudly when she collapses back down, eyes shut tight and mouth ajar.

"Jackson-"

He ignores her then, pulling the pink and white striped cloth down her leg with his hand, dropping it carelessly before he runs his palms back up her legs, spreading her legs at the same time.

"Please?"

It's almost a beg, a plea. She cups the sides of his face when he kisses her lips again, her teeth gracing his lower lip and eyes staring into his. His fingers hook down the sides of her thong and he pauses.

He's doing this right, this time. She deserves to be cherished, to be adored. She deserves slow and romantic, not some quick hook-up in a bathroom stall.

She's worth more than that, they're worth more than that. And he wants to give her everything, all of him.

Her hands find his belt, quickly discarding it and unzipping his trousers, hands slipping down the back. He laughs quietly when she pinches his butt, a small grin on her face.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Definitely."

He shakes his head with an amused smile and kisses her again, more passionately than before and with more pressure, more need. He craves it, craves her. And he knows now more than ever that the feeling is returned.

There is no guilt, to shame.

There's just him, and her, and the issues and forgotten conversations that lingered between them have disappeared. If not just for now.

There is just them, and a bed, and a different state, and vows. To love and to cherish. To adore and promise. To heal and help. For life.

He backs away for a second to pull his pants away, taking his boxers with them at the same time, before he joins her again, hands split between her waist and thigh.

She thrusts up into him, hips curling and chest panting.

She needs it, needs him. More than anyone, more than ever.

He slips his hands down her back, pulling the thin material covering her pride down as he goes, and she lifts her behind easily to allow him to slip the item off.

Once he drops it beside them on the floor, she wraps her legs around his thighs, arms around his shoulders and she chews on her lip.

He's so close, and she's so desperate, and they've waited long enough.

She has waited long enough.

Because, in the end, she did wait for her husband. It just happened at an odd time in a different place than she had planned and with someone that she had never expected, someone she would, could, never replace.

She feels him reach between them and place himself against her centre, her throat dry and lips raw.

It's him, it's always been him.

"I love you." He leans his forehead against her own, a small frown on his face as he slowly eases into her, watching as she gasps at the sensation.

Over a year yet it still feels the same. They still feel the same.

The chemistry is still alight, the spark is still alive, and she can still feel those tingles running up and down her spine when he grabs her waist and pulls her closer, moving faster within her walls.

Her hips curve, roll and buckle upwards into him, her small hands finding the sides of his neck to support herself. Her eyes drift shut and she lightly cries when he thrusts harder, her legs pulling up at his sides.

She links her ankles behind his backside, and her fingernails dig into his flesh. Her back arches and she licks her lips when he traces his mouth down the side of her neck, suckling and nibbling her pale skin.

She could never grow tired of him, of every feeling that he brings out in her.

"Jackson-!" She moans, knuckles whitening as she clasps her hands behind his neck, head throwing back as she feels herself reaching her climax.

He glides his fingers from her waist to her face, thumb tracing her chin sweetly as he continues to meet her every move, increasing the speed of his thrusts as he feels himself nearing.

"Argh!"

He grunts, leaning into her, forehead to her collarbone and slowing his speed as he follows her to completion, head turning to watch as she finishes her orgasm, chest heavy and lips shredded from her own, and his, teeth.

"That-"

She nods, letting her back contort and pushing her chest up into his, unintentionally with satisfaction.

"Yes!"

She collapses back down on the bed, hair sprawled around her from falling from her plait and eyes closed.

He copies her, hips still moving until he finishes in her, body pressing into hers and breath mixing with her own as he leans across slightly to kiss her.

She smiles against his mouth, hands cupping his face and he grins like a child.

"We're married."

"Me and you."

There is just them. Him, and her, and a whole bunch of complications that don't need attention right now.

There is him, and there is her, and there is them. Together. Bound. Tethered. Forever.


End file.
